Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo eBook

“Ah! And I hope that Howell will also be
punished for his crime,” the handsome woman
cried. “Though I have been a thief, a swindler,
and a decoy—­ah! yes, I admit it all—­I
have never committed the crime of murder. I know,
messieurs,” she went on—­“I know
that I am a social outcast, the mysterious Mademoiselle
of Monte Carlo, they call me! But I have suffered.
I have indeed in these past months paid my debt to
Society, and of you, Mr. Henfrey, I beg forgiveness.”

“Mademoiselle will, I hope, meet Miss Ranscomb,
Mr. Henfrey’s fiancee, and tell her the whole
truth,” said The Sparrow.

“That I certainly will,” Yvonne replied.
“Now that I can think I shall be allowed to
leave this place—­eh?”

“Of course. I will see after that,”
said the man known as Mr. Peters. “You
must return to the Villa Amette—­for you
are still Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo, remember!
Leave it all to me.” And he laughed happily.

“But we are no nearer the solution of the mystery
as to who attempted to kill you, Mademoiselle,”
Hugh remarked.

“There can be but one person. Old Cataldi
knows who it is,” she answered.

“Cataldi? Then why has he not told me?
I questioned him closely only the other day,”
said The Sparrow.

“Because—­well——­”
and she turned to The Sparrow. “You will
recollect the affair we brought off in Brussels at
that house of the Belgian baroness close to the Bois
de la Cambre. A servant was shot dead. Giulio
Cataldi shot him in self-defence. But Howell knows
of it.”

“Well?” asked The Sparrow.

“Howell was in Monte Carlo on the night of the
attempt upon me. I met him in the Casino half
an hour before I left to walk home. He no doubt
recognized Mr. Henfrey, who was also there, as the
son of the man whom he had murdered, watched him,
and followed him up to my villa. He suspected
that Mr. Henfrey’s object was to face me and
demand an explanation.”

“Do you really think so?” gasped Hugh.

“Of that I feel positive. Only Cataldi
can prove it.”

“Why Cataldi?” inquired Hugh.

“See him again and tell him what I have revealed
to you,” answered Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo.

“Who was it who warned me against you by that
letter posted in Tours?”

“It was part of Howell’s scheme, no doubt.
I have no idea of the identity of the writer of any
anonymous letter. But Howell, no doubt, saw that
if he rid himself of me it would be to his great advantage.”

“Then Cataldi will not speak the truth because
he fears Howell?” remarked the notorious chief
of Europe’s underworld.

“Exactly. Now that I can think, I can piece
the whole puzzle together. It is all quite plain.
Do you not recollect Howell’s curious rifle
fashioned in the form of a walking-stick? When
I halted to speak to Madame Beranger on the steps
of the Casino as I came out that night, he passed
me carrying that stick. Indeed, he is seldom without
it. By means of that disguised rifle I was shot!”